


if these walls could talk

by waldenbccks (orphan_account)



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Canon Compliant, Depression, Drug Addiction, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, basically what led up to s1e01, mention of suicide, probably not much writing it makes me uncomfortable, short hiatus, useless gay idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24236503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/waldenbccks
Summary: philip shea was happy with his mother. sure, things weren’t perfect exactly, but hell, what was? new york city had always welcomed him with open arms and a bright smile. the sky-high buildings had grown as he did, gradually getting taller and more difficult to work around.lukas waldenbeck dreams to escape tivoli, a small, ugly suburb. motor cross being his ticket, it seems. he just has to appeal to the right sponsors and he’ll be out of there before anyone can try to convince him different.but, suddenly, tivoli starts to look brighter.
Relationships: Gabe Caldwell/Helen Torrance, Philip Shea/Lukas Waldenbeck, Rose/Lukas Waldenbeck, probably other oc relationships
Comments: 11
Kudos: 11





	if these walls could talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes the title is a generic 5sos lyric. and what about it? 
> 
> enjoy chapter one!!

philip sits on the grass. the green moss on the grand oak behind him soaking up the sunlight, and the smeared cotton he had seen just forty minutes earlier had seemingly been plucked out the sky. though october, the midday sun shines, welcomed by anything it’s light touches, warming him, too.

philip had never experienced anything like this in the city. where the air was thicker, warmer, and dusted the heads of the apartment buildings in which he had grown up along side. most nights, he’d climb the fire escape, scaling the building until his hands hit the concrete half-wall which marked the peak of the red brick tower. when he pulled himself up, the gravel engulfed him. uncomfortable and ragged, yet... welcoming. in those moments, he felt free. the height drowned out the continued hustle of the grey streets below him. finally, quiet. philip longed for that: the hour or so a day he could remove himself from the crowds below, the shouting, and just be at peace. 

there wasn’t much to do up there, besides read, really. though, philip found himself staring off the edge of the brick, once or twice. he’d close his eyes, toes of his sneakers hanging at the will of the new york skyline, and breathe. listen the pounding of his pulse. count the drumming of his heart, knocking against his rib cage. adjust his ears to the newfound silence. feel the benign breath of the cool air push against his body. forwards, backwards... forwards, backwards. each nudge, guiding him closer to the fall that would for sure welcome him, were he to teeter too far from the stone beneath his feet.

philip thought about that a lot; the fall. never convinced himself to do it - but wondered how it would feel. nothing, he had always thought. maybe that’s how he wanted it. just the blank space the descent may bring him. he’d reach his arms out above his head, or throw them out to his side. the halt of peaceful birdsong in the dusk would pull him out of his momentary haze, signaling the fall of the sun. the embers of the city sky faded into the darkness, and philip would lay awake, savoring that. god, he was a cliche.

but, that was then. that was when he was home, surrounded by the infinite faces and sounds of the life. where philip could be whoever, whatever, he wanted to be. or nothing at all. no one batted a careless eye towards him. he could shuffle his way through the streets, keeping his head down, and no one would send him a passing look.

that was when he was with his mother. her tired, bloodshot eyes would light when she saw the dark mop of philip’s hair. he missed the days of that, the days he could get through to her. the days she was sober enough to indulge in conversation, assuming her son was for it (which he often wasn’t). he forever wished she could always be like that: her curly hair, neat, and her skin with the faintest trace of pigment - of life.

as a given, her hazel eyes were glazed over when the tall, lean man in uniform came knocking at their door just after four pm and tore them apart. philip adored his mother, even in her lowest times. he knew she had suffered with an illness he couldn’t see, but never once had anne burdened him with the name of it. he wasn’t stupid. philip had pieced together what she had told him about his grandfather to know whatever plagued his mother’s mind had attacked his too. he didn’t know exactly what it was, per se, but he was helpless against it when his mother would get into all these states.

depression was the word he was hit with, after being taken into a boys’ foster center, off one of the side roads out of the city. that made sense. philip arrived in late july, and his few bags were dumped into a shared room with three other boys; two bunk beds lined up pathetically against the grey walls. he didn’t see much of the boys outside of the room. he heard them call him names behind his back, point out how he was ‘too gay for his own good’. which was ironic to philip, actually.

he hadn’t really spent much time thinking about that sort of stuff. never had to. in the city, no one cared, especially not in this day and age. his mom didn’t, either. in the back of his mind, he guessed he knew they were right. though, something about the way they spat their words around didn’t sit right with him. which is what led to his first fight. it ended up as a three verses one. that didn’t seem fair to philip but he wasn’t sure they were gonna take a step back to review the rules of a black eye and bruised ribs. he managed to live along side them for a painful two months, two weeks and six days, not that he was counting or anything, before the short, copper haired social worker he had grown such a dislike to tapped him (more forcefully than necessary) on his shoulder in the common room and ordered him to follow her to the cramped office that sat embarrassed at the forefront of the foster home. like they were proud of it. weird.

anyway, to cut a long story short, that’s when he found out that some random couple from one of the tiny towns a way away from the city wanted to buy him. or, foster him, he was conditioned to say after the times he’d been scolded by the ginger lady, zoey, after ‘scaring the younger children!’ well... obviously. what else was he trying to do? make friends with the seven year olds? fat chance.

he wasn’t told much about them, just that they had tried for a baby once or twice - obviously no such luck. which is why they decided to opt for the nearest thing to a new born baby: a seventeen year old boy. whatever. he didn’t care much about their reasoning. he was more concerned about the fact zoey had mentioned they lived around farms. great - the smell of cow shit and vegetables all day. what more could you ask for? 

as much as he dreamed about it, philip didn’t know if he would ever go back to his mother. he wanted to, god, did he want nothing more than to be in her arms, her soft voice soothing the furrow in his brow. the judge had decided she could take care of him, under one condition: she successfully gets through rehab first. she’d tried before. failed. though he believed in his mom and loved her, he doubted her will to get better. philip understood. he did, honestly. she’d told him briefly a few times that whatever it was she would take drowned out her thoughts for a while. whenever he’d think about that, he ended up drawing an uneasy line between the two of them. 

he knew that feeling. that’s what he got from feeling the wind edging him towards the concrete slabs of the pavement hundreds of feet below him. 

a week or so later on, he met dr. gabe caldwell and sheriff helen torrance. his new foster parents. things moved on in kind of a blur throughout the next few weeks following their first meeting. boring legal shit he couldn’t care less about. he got stick from the idiots he shared a room with, whose names he never really managed - or bothered - to learn. well, he didn’t see them leaving that dump any sooner than him. and that’s how he ended up with another pretty black eye just before his ‘big day!’ (zoey’s words. definitely not his), with the advice to watch his mouth.

she fussed around with him about it for a few minutes before their car journey into the town he was being forced to call home for... well, until gabe and helen got too bored or frustrated of him. then they left. the drive took the better part of two hours, which philip managed to sleep through for the most part. it’s hard falling asleep to someone singing continuously in the seat in front of you, did you know?

he woke up to a shove on the shoulder just a few minutes before they drove past the town’s old, boring sign. 

‘welcome to tivoli. drive safe.’

the whole situation was humorous, philip could admit, in a sick and twisted way. everything that had happened in the past three months, and philip couldn’t really name a time he’d felt - anything. longing, for his mother, maybe. but zoey and the judge’s words were etched into his mind now: ‘it’s for the best.’ 

it took around ten minutes for zoey and philip to arrive at the caldwell-torrance house and - well. he didn’t know what he expected. it was... big, for lack of a better word. they had hundreds of meters of land, stretching in all directions from the building at the end of the long, graveled driveway. he noticed a generous barn situated at the back of the dark-wood house, just as zoey pulled the car into a halt. grand oaks sat about proudly.

gabe was stood in the door-frame when philip stepped out, appearing to have heard the tires crunch upon the stones. he jogged down the few steps leading to the dark wooden porch, and towards the car. words were exchanged, a teary smile from zoey (which philip was over eighty percent sure was fake) and the engine started up again. she drove off, back to the city, leaving philip in the company of a man he’d met twice before.

as gabe motioned for him to follow him up the path, philip couldn’t help but wonder whose idea it was to foster philip. for starters, gabe was, what philip guessed, one of the only vets in tivoli. the town definitely wasn’t big enough to require two veterinary practices so he guessed gabe would be busy. also, he thought of gabe’s wife, helen. she was the sheriff which definitely meant a lot of time and dedication. lastly, he was pretty much a year away from ageing out of the foster system. normally, any other foster kid would presume they were in it for the money, but considering both their jobs and their home, philip had no choice but to rule that one out. 

the opening of a wooden door in front of him snapped philip out of his thoughts, and gabe welcomed him to ‘his room’. there was a small bubble of excitement that philip allowed to run through his core. it was - spacious, a big double bed joined by two modest nightstands. one of which was adorned with a lamp, the other a small black alarm clock. the walls were white, and the curtains that protected the grand window were a light, forest green. his favourite colour. he wondered if the two knew that, or if it was just weird luck. the proud chest of drawers stood beside a wardrobe, and a full length mirror sat next to the desk at the far corner of the room. all the dark, chestnut wood matched beautifully. 

the man philip had honestly forgot was stood next to him patted him on the back after placing his three bags on the bed and announced he was going to make lunch for the two of them, telling philip that helen was working and would be back later tonight. he nodded and gabe left him to himself. his shoes tapped against the wooden floor as he walked over to the - _his_ \- bed and started to unpack his clothes before noticing a small, black phone facing towards him. a note was written above it in neat, tiny writing which read: _for philip :)_

he couldn’t help the smile he allowed to trace his lips for a second. he’d never had a phone before - didn’t know if he would have needed one even if his mother could have afforded it. he picked up the screen and switched it on. he noticed there were two contacts added to it and saw they were gabe and helen’s numbers. philip slipped the phone into his back pocket before deciding to unpack the rest of his stuff. his clothes didn’t nearly fill any of the drawers, nor the wardrobe. he pulled out the few books he’d managed to keep from the foster home and stood them on the desk, besides the lamp to the left of it. philip hadn’t ever had many books, but the few he had he’d probably reread at least three times each. he liked having the certainty of knowing the ending, he guessed. yep. extremely cliche.

he set them up in alphabetical order: a game of thrones, artemis fowl, life of pi, me before you, the alchemyst, the princess bride. he kept the final one on the right nightstand: nineteen minutes. jodi picoult’s novels had always been some of his favourites, he wasn’t sure why. philip never really understood much of it until only a few years ago. he wondered if his mother would notice the book missing on her shelf. probably not. he hadn’t seen her read much before he was pulled from his home. his mother never allowed him to read nineteen minutes before he turned seventeen - understandably so, considering the plot was based around a school shooting. though tragic, anne had always found the novel strangely beautiful. philip found that weird, but it was his mother's nature to find beauty of every situation. secretly, he wished he'd inherited that trait from her. either way, he hadn't. each time he read it, he concluded the book was ugly. don't get him wrong, he adored the way jodi picoult had with words. the writing was great. but he couldn't find the warmth his mother saw.

in that moment, gabe poked his head around the door-frame, finding philip staring at the cover of the book blankly. he cleared his throat quietly, but loud enough to cause philip's head to follow the interrupting noise. apologizing, gabe nearly missed how philip's eyes softened from their narrow state, slightly. he told philip their food was ready and left him once more. this time, philip stood and followed after him through the wide entryway and down the house.

the kitchen was warm and inviting, and it instantly struck philip that this was probably the heart of their house. small frames hung from the walls, holding various pictures of gabe and helen, an older looking version of their house (slightly smaller, he guessed with less additions to the original building) and finally: what looked to be some kind of boat port. nothing big, just a quaint wooden dock. a few bags sat to the edge of the dock, but one certain thing stood out to philip. a lonely, mahogany canoe. two matching ores lay in front of the boat. the water in which the canoe sat was calm, focused. it made him smile, slightly.

when he turned back round to face gabe, his eye line was already set in philip's direction. though, he too was looking at the small picture of the beautiful boat. there was something so fond in his smile as gabe shifted his glance towards philip. he explained that was the boat he'd made helen for her fortieth birthday, a few years back now, and that photo was taken about twenty minutes before he revealed it to her. as gabe relived helen's happiness, philip couldn't help but revel in it too, despite him not seeing the moment. philip guessed she was more open towards her husband than she was towards him. something hummed in philip's stomach at gabe's mention of their _love._

philip had never really given too much thought about falling in love. he didn't know how he felt about it - all sounded too good to be true. he didn't actively dislike the concept, but he preferred to keep it at that: a concept. the idea of giving everything to one set person terrified him, if he was being honest. philip knew his mother had told him that she fell in love with his father. he had no memories of his father before he took his own life when philip was two or three. not his face, his voice, his hands - nothing. philip knew what his father looked like (a few pictures hung in frames of the three of them, of his mother and his father, of his father and him) but he couldn't see him as clearly as he could his mother when he closed his eyes. it made him hurt when he was first old enough to understand the situation at around eleven, then he started to get angrier towards the age of fourteen, but now he blamed that mostly on puberty. it still stung to think about how philip's mother was suddenly alone with a toddler, but he didn't feel he needed to be selfish. obviously, the man was hurting.

that made philip skeptical about love, giving your all to someone who might not be able to keep it; like his father. anne fell in love, and in return was left alone to deal with the pain of that love collapsing. philip's sure he would never surprise anyone - a foster kid with a junkie mom and a dead dad, who didn't believe in love.

gabe's words started to trail off as he refocused over to philip, stood in front of him. as he shot a weary smile, gabe walked back over to the counter top, picking up the two plates he had prepared for himself and philip. it was some type of pasta philip had never tasted before. there wasn't much small talk as the two ate, mostly gabe assuring philip he just had to ask if he ever needed anything. he was thankful gabe didn't talk an awful lot, at least not to him straight away. the pasta was good, philip complimented gabe's cooking. the older man sent a grateful smile towards him. by the time they'd finished eating and clearing up, to which gabe failed to convince philip that he didn't have to pick up his own plate and place it in the sink, it was around two in the afternoon.

philip aimlessly floated around the house for the better part of twenty minutes before gabe suggested he could take a walk around their grounds if he was up to it. philip liked that idea.

he pulled his beaten converse onto his feet and mentioned to gabe he was going to look around. he visited the barn first. the hay instantly made his eyes sting and he had to fight the urge to block his nose - this was going to be his home for the foreseeable future; he'd have to get used to it at some point. he walked beyond the barn, out to the left of the house and found a small, green area shaded by trees. he could hear the trickling of the glistening creak before he saw it. as he crossed his legs and sat down, the only thing reminding him that he was in his own body was the familiar melody of the invisible birds, he assumed were perched on one of the taller branches of the beautiful oak trees.

philip couldn't help the overwhelming sensation that started to fuck up the pattern of his breathing. the numbness of all the events of the past few months were seeming to catch up with him. the sadness, the anger, the nervousness, the pain. he slammed his eyes shut as the image of the gone, blank face of his mother in the moment they were split up began to swim in his vision. that was the last time he'd seen her. each gulp of air his lungs took felt like blows to his chest. like he was back at the foster home with the cruel faces that would stare at him. his head was light, and he saw his father. just once, before he blinked (again and again). but he was sure - he knew what saw. philip focused on his own hands, clenched them and stretched them before repeating that. he remembers his mother doing that a few times when she felt like she couldn't breathe. it didn't help. he moved his hands to his lap, before laying his back flat against the soft green grass below him. a few of the shards nipped at his neck, but he ignored it. he just looked up. up to the infinite blue that hung around his head through the cracks in the green canopy. 

he lifted a hand to trace his fingers over the outline of the few pearly clouds which dusted the sky. his breathing began to regulate more as he thought about, well, nothing, really. his eyes stung after a few minutes of staring upwards. picking himself up from the floor, philip's back is met with the harsh, rough bark of the oak peering over his shoulders. he was glad to receive the strong nudge - grounded him. time started passing him. 

which is how he ends up here, forty minutes later, aimlessly staring out to the quaint creek sitting metres in front of his feet. the clean, crisp air of the day settles into his lungs and he can hear the quiet commotion the small dips in the rocky bed of the stream cause as the water rolls and explores. every now and then, philip pulls his phone out of his pocket in order to snap the calm surroundings which engulf him. he supposes gabe will want him back soon enough, but for now, he decides to ignore that thought until he hears the inevitable ringtone which will sound, signalling gabe's expectation of his return. philip can't name a time he's ever felt like this before. he has no idea where he is, which would usually cause him to panic, but he isn't (well. not anymore). the smells of the countryside find their way into his bloodstream, which he doesn't mind. he's picking at some of the blades of green that cover the ground when he hears the faint, but sure sound of an engine. not one he's familiar to: a car, a bus, whatever. the sound moves closer, louder - god, does it get louder. by the time it comes to a halt, it's all philip can hear. following the sound, he emerges back out onto the span of green that encases gabe and helen's (and his, for a while) house. 

gabe, too, seemed to hear the deafening rumble of the vehicle, because he stands at the steps before the porch. he, however, doesn't seem anywhere near as confused as philip to hear the sound. while philip can't see the - _whatever it is_ \- he can see gabe's toothy smile. he quickly descends the small incline leading to the house and walks towards the visitor. as philip moves forward slightly, the source of the sound appears into his eye line: a motor cycle. with stupid green accents running down the body. 

philip turns his attention to the rider: a helmet covers his head, also with the same obnoxious green detailing. gabe's voice draws his attention as philip decides to walk over to the porch, joining gabe.

"lukas! hey bud," he calls down the driveway, towards the guy who's now removing his helmet. beneath it, a head of blonde hair becomes visible. after placing the gear on the handlebars of the bike, the boy - _lukas_ \- sends a wave their way, at gabe. he shouts a reply and struts up to the two looking down at him. gabe asks him how he is, philip thinks. not that he can hear him. he can't really seem to tear his eyes away from the boy. _lukas lukas lukas_ is all he can hear. as he arrives next to them, philip can tell his hair is bleached against his pale skin, which, normally would be an unpleasant combination. however, this guy manages to pull it off. as he talks with gabe about something, philip can't help but notice the way his light blue eyes sparkle, just a bit. lukas's strong jaw moves effortlessly around his words, which roll out of his mouth like honey. normally, philip would worry that he's been looking at this boy, two or three inches taller than him, for too long, but right now, he honestly didn't care. he probably gets this everyday, if the girls out here aren't blind, that is.

philip only realizes his name was mentioned when lukas's eyes zero in on him. quickly, he rips his gaze away, caught. he turns to gabe and uselessly smiles. gabe chuckles a little, understanding philip has absolutely no idea whats going on, and repeats himself: "philip, this is lukas waldenbeck, he lives on the farm a few minutes down the lane," now, turning to the taller of the two, "lukas, this is philip shea, our foster son."

philip nods, clearing his throat, and reaches his hand out to shake lukas's, which has been offered to him. "nice to meet you, lukas."

the boy sends him a smile, all teeth, which sets crinkles by his eyes, and returns it. "you too, philip." philip thinks he could definitely be floored by lukas's smile if he doesn't look away soon. luckily for him, he does. he slides his eyes back up to gabe. his words mash together in philip's mind because god knows there's no way he can focus on what anyone's saying when there's a boy stood in front of him looking like _that_. philip doesn't think he's seen anyone who looked like lukas. he doesn't know if he would even be able to come up with someone like him in his head. everything just fits together.

gabe's voice, lower than lukas's, cuts through philip's thought train: "yeah, course, lukas. just let me go in and get my stuff and i'll be on my way round. philip, wanna come help us out?"

 _fuck_ , philip thinks, _i probably should have listened to that_. "sure."

"great, i'll tell dad you're coming by!" lukas beams again, making his way back down the driveway. "both of you."

gabe hums some sort of agreement, waves at lukas, then turns and heads back through the front door of the house. philip stays where he is as he watches lukas grab the helmet off his bike and kick the stand it's precariously standing on, before riding off down the lane. philip allows himself a second, before following after gabe. he finds the man in his study to the left of the staircase. he's shuffling through the neat draws and grabbing a few various items philip hasn't seen before. philip leans back against the open door-frame. "what was that about?"

"well, bo - lukas's father - saw one of their mares fussing in the stable some time earlier and sent lukas round here to fetch me to check up on her," gabe explained, grabbing his bag from where it's hanging off the back of his desk chair. philip nods and walks back into his room across the hall and peers at himself in the mirror stood atop his chest of drawers. cursing the country side, he plucks a few pieces of grass off his shoulders and out of his hair. great. he hears gabe knock on his door before calling down the hall, hurriedly, "you coming, philip?"

philip speeds out to meet him and they walk up to gabe's truck. he puts it in drive and they're following the route lukas had taken off on. the radio is playing some old song which lights gabe's face. he hums quietly and taps his fingers against the steering wheel. thankfully, gabe's humming isn't anywhere near as annoying as zoey's and it almost settles something inside of philip. he doesn't place a name on it before looking out the window to his right and allowing himself to awe at the infinite scape of green. he didn't realise how breathtaking the sight was on his arrival a few hours earlier. grasslands cover pretty much everything in sight, yet as they round a corner towards the center of tivoli, the grey hustle of the streets starts to blur it out. 

there's a few more people wondering round the town now, not as many as philip's normally used to seeing in the city, but definitely a change from the social silence earlier. the clock on gabe's dashboard reads '15:23', leaving philip to assume the high school kids just got out. a minute or so later, gabe pulls up to a long stretch of road, which leads up to a farm house, with dark beams and white panels decorating the outside. two barns stand proudly either side of the house, one of which appears to house horses. philip can't help the nagging excitement he feels - seeing a proper horse in person. the other is loaded with hay bales and a small wood working bench, just beside a coup of some type of bird.

the driver's door opens and gabe steps out, motioning with his head for philip to do the same. just as he's grabbing the bag out of the back of his truck, gabe's name is called by a man, striding up to meet them with his head turned to the horse barn. "gabe, is that you? oh thank the lord, i was starting to get real worried about ol' jessie here - she ain't been eating, drinking, nothing since about sunday, it's gotta be now. that's three whole days, doc! that ain't normal, is it? never happened to 'er before now..." the man barely breathes as he talks. he's red-faced with a beer belly.

gabe shakes his head in reply before asking, "no, bo. has she been eating anything different? she injured?" 

the man - bo waldenbeck - huffs before grunting what philip can only assume to be a 'no'. he faces around to the two for what might be the first time since they arrived and he looks a little surprised to see philip. he quickly apologizes before reaching out and shaking philip's hand: "sorry, son. i'm bo, lukas's father. i ain't usually so rushed but this man here-" he claps gabe's shoulder, "he gotta help our girl, jess." philip nods and smiles. _what's he supposed to say?_ clearly bo isn't too worried about getting a reply, because he's already back to talking the air out of his lungs; explaining the situation and pulling gabe towards the bigger barn. before they disappear in, he points to the other one and tells philip he can wander about, being careful to 'not touch anything that looks important'.

when he's sure they're out of sight, philip rolls his eyes at bo's brash nature. he does, however, walk around to the hay barn. the white birds cluck among themselves and philip looks round, only half interested. well, that's until he notices the green motorcycle sitting against the beam running from the roof of the barn to the floor. lukas is situated on the floor in front of the bike, his back facing philip. it looks like he's cleaning it, philip blindly guesses, know approximately nothing about motorcycles. he can hear lukas humming every now and then to the music playing through his earphones, and grins.

taking care to keep his presence anonymous to lukas, philip quietly walks over to the boy, towering behind him. just as he raises his hand to scare lukas, a voice stops him.

"really, philip?"

his heart stops for a second, before realising it's only lukas's voice. he sighs as lukas turns round to face philip, standing up and laughing upon seeing philip's disappointment. philip rolls his eyes once more before shaking his head. "how did you...?" the bleach blonde smiles lightly and points to the shining body of the bike and philip can make out the faint shape of his shadow against the sun behind him, "right."

"points for effort though," lukas smugly retorts. "you tried, i'll give ya that." philip flips him off, though the smile on his face deceives him, he knows. lukas has already removed his earphones as he coolly leans back against his bike, watching philip continue to walk around the barn. he dips his head down to stare at one of the birds who, creepily, caught his eye before it ruffles its wings at him, of course leading philip to give out a _very_ manly scream. lukas can't stop the belly laugh this triggers because _god, had he never seen a goose before?_ philip pretends not to hear him (even though he's certain probably anyone within a four mile radius would have heard him) and moves back round to face him. 

"you really are a city boy, huh?" lukas's laugh is still evident in his words as he crosses his arms looking back to the coop. philip gives him a pointed look to the blue plaid over shirt covering the white tshirt under it.

"okay, country bum..." philip laughs quietly as lukas holds a hand over his heart, feigning his hurt feelings. it's a weak insult, philip can admit. 

"sure, but at least i'm not going around screaming about birds an eighth the size of me," lukas shoves him in the arm and shakes his head.

"hey! i didn't scream, and it wasn't about the birds either." philip stands his ground. bold of him to do so in a losing argument. lukas angles his head forward to raise his eyebrows at the shorter of the two, encouraging him to continue. "i... i thought i saw a-" _don't say spider, don't say spider._.. "uh, a spider." philip decides to betray himself and say the stupidest thing he can think of. he's not even afraid of spiders.

as predicted, that hasn't helped him at all. lukas bursts out laughing and philip allows himself to join in, though not taking his gaze away from lukas, whose eyes are closed momentarily as his hiccuping laughter fills philip's senses. he's almost sure he can feel lukas's happiness. is this what it's like to be around him? if so, philip is certain he doesn't ever want to leave the boy's side. he doesn't ever want to not see him like this. 

but, lukas's phone _dings_ from the front pocket of his blue jeans, interrupting the two of them. lukas looks down towards the sound as he catches his breath. philip takes a step back as he notices the gap between them was only less than a foot, and kicks at a small stone on the barn floor. lukas fishes his phone out and reads his text. he looks back up at philip before apologizing: "shoot, sorry man. i have to go out for a bit."

despite the gutting feeling in his chest, philip nods and flashes a smile. "that's cool, everything okay?" he asks after seeing the unreadable blue of lukas's eyes continue to flick over his phone screen. three more _dings_.

"yeah, uh..." the taller boy starts, barely concentrating on his words, "sorry, yeah, my girlfriend needs help with, uh, something back at her house..." he trails off before looking to meet philip's eyes. there's a glint in lukas's eyes. he's not sure what it means, until, of course, he is. 

"ohhh... okay man." philip huffs a (forced) laugh and motions his arm to the outside world - which, admittedly, he forgot exists. "don't let me stop you, by any means," he replies in his best attempt at a playful manner. 

lukas shoots him a quick smirk before pulling his helmet onto his head and readying his bike. he sends a quick wave towards philip, which he returns, and the bike kicks into motion, out the barn. then he's gone. philip can hear the sound of his engine slowly get quieter until it fades into the open air around the town. 

philip's not sure why, but hearing the word _girlfriend_ spoken so easily by lukas hasn't stopped echoing around his head, even as gabe announces they're done. even as the wind whips through the half open windows of gabe's truck. even as the man explains that bo waldenbeck's mare is pregnant, and not dying (as bo had worried). even as they got back to the house. he sits on his bed not twenty minutes after they left the waldenbeck farm, and it's still all he can hear.

what did philip expect? _girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend._ he's only known the boy an hour or so, at most. _girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend._ it's not like lukas is ugly, not at all. _girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend._ whatever he tries to think of for the rest of the afternoon is followed by lukas's voice. _"my girlfriend."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i impulsively started writing this as a vent then decided i missed these idiots too much so here we are! 
> 
> the tense switch at the start and end of this chapter is a bit confusing so if there’s anything you don’t understand, feel free to comment. also i'm gonna see how long i can continue naming the chapters as colours because i can literally name seven colours 
> 
> (i probably won’t include notes in most chapters purely because for the most part they’re pointless)
> 
> anyway! thank you for reading :)


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